


Regular

by breadcat



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadcat/pseuds/breadcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharrkan x female reader (you). Another reader insert. This time with Sharrkan! Also "you" are a brothel worker, basically. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regular

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd because I don't have a beta. Cross posted from tumblr.

He’s all dark skin and firm muscles under your finger tips. Pliant yet unyielding. Scorching and quivering. You can tell he wants you. You can feel it in the way his stomach clenches under your palms and the way his hands skim your arms. He’s letting you explore, allowing you to play with his body starting with his white hair. So different from yours.

Your touches had explored his face, finger tips dancing over his eyelids and the smug grin that curved his lips, down his neck where you traced a swirling shape around his Adam’s apple. Down further and you played across his pulse, traced his collar bones and kissed each peak in the skin sweetly. You mapped out his torso, enjoying the way he squirmed when your fingers teased at two dusky nipples and down further along his ribs. You followed scars and their unwritten, unspoken history. You never asked and he never told but that was okay. You find his belly button to be particularly interesting, your gaze flicking between your hands on his stomach as his muscles clenched and bunched, up to his face to watch the battle of emotions in his eyes. He so obviously wanted to grab your hands, but he so obviously wanted you to keep going.

You could safely assume it had something to do with the hot heavy pressure against your inner thigh, welcoming you to his lap just through the thin at best robes you both wore. Simple bath house things, made to be soaked in and dry quickly.

He was complacent, watching you and encouraging you onwards with soft sighs and a rock of his hips and you became so very much more aware of what awaited your hands under the robes. And it was good, so good, and it was so little but you had no basis to be embarrassed over just how easily he had worked you up to this, without doing more than a few soft brushes of his hands along your clothes and whispered words that you were sure were practiced solely to coax girls into bed. But oh it worked and he wasn’t being a pig about it, he was being so nice and welcoming it was easy to give in to the obvious want you had for him.

You feel his hands skimming up your legs, pushing at the robe until it’s bunched at your hips and he can tease the skin of your thighs with his fingers. Your skin burns and tingles, and you crave and hope and silently plead to yourself- please please please.

It feels like an eternity of silent prayer before he feels like granting your wish. 

The skin of his hands is rough, deliciously so, and he’s oh so gentle and careful with the first touches between your legs, fingers sliding easily over your folds. You can tell he wants to comment, staring him down through your lashes and you feel your cheeks heat. You’re so so very wet for him and he’s done little more than kiss you. It’s going to his head so quickly he might as well be outright bragging. But instead he pours the energy he would use to do that into sinking a finger deep into you. And it’s wonderful and not enough but you can’t help but rock faintly against his hand, and he meets you part way, straightening his hand so your center rubs against the heel of his palm.

A rush of air leaves you with a shaky sigh, and it bleeds into a moan as he leans up to kiss and lick down your neck and finally comments. You hear the words but they only sink in far enough to make you clench down around his finger as he rocks his hand back and works another into you. It’s nice that he’s toying you open with his fingers, not because it’s just good for you, but because it’s been a little while and you’re not sure you’d be able to comfortably take what he has to offer under his robes right off the bat.

This time the two fingers sink in a bit more shallow, but you can’t find it in you to care as his thumb presses to your clit and works in slow almost too soft circles. It still makes your legs spasm, tightening on his hips and relaxing to let you rock against his hand, matching his pace.

He kisses up your neck and jaw, your head tilting back to offer him more room, more skin. He smiles against your throat as you bring your hands up and thread them through his hair. He sighs into your skin, tongue licking a long stripe up your throat to your ear where he bites down on the sensitive soft flesh of your earlobe, just shy of catching the ring of metal draping from it.

Your eyes flutter as he moved back down your neck, fingers working in and out of you steadily, and you can feel the pleasure coiling harder in your belly and you arch up against him. His unoccupied hand presses to your back, urging you closer, helping you to rock against his hand (and his arousal by default). The pace gradually builds, and it’s a slow burn between your legs and by the time you’re steadily, firmly, rocking into his hand hard enough that even heaves a shuddering sigh from the friction is caused.

The noise was obscene, loud in the silence of the room. It would have been utterly embarrassing, normal or not, but you were too wound up. And after his fingers working your inner walls and his thumb against the most sensitive little bud, the coil that had been tightening more and more as you rolled your hips finally snapped.

You come undone against his fingers, body seizing up and you arch hard against him, shaking and clutching him so tight you’re sure you rip holes in his robes. He lets you ride it out, holding you close but not tight, pumping his fingers still until you relax and slump against him with a shaky sigh. You’re almost sad to feel the fingers slide free, and he tips you back enough to kiss you.

All you can do is shake and twitch as the spasms work through your body during the after glow, and it’s awhile before you feel yourself slowly coming to a stop instead of clenching around nothing between your legs. He brings you down from cloud nine carefully, stroking your hair and your back with the hand that had supported your up right. As soon as you can think straight you make a grab for him, hauling him close against you very nearly by his hair.

He laughs into your mouth and you run your hands over everything you can reach, pushing at his robes insistently (what was left of them anyway). You’re sated, but still craving, and you push him back against the mound of pillows and sheets and he lets you. You part the bath robes and lean down, trailing little bites and gentle kisses down his chest and stomach and you can feel when his breath hitches when you take him in your hand with a slow upwards stroke.

He’s tan here too, almost evenly so just like the rest of his body but you know, the skin here is normally, supposed to be, slightly different. It’s hot and silky against your palm, so soft yet so very very firm. You’re far from inexperienced, after all this isn’t the first time he’s found you alluring and taken you to bed, but you know there’s an appeal when you pretend. And he likes it when you shoot him a wide eyed look, surprised as if it was the first time you held a man in your hands. If the way his eyes darken is anything to go by, he’ll never get tired of it.

You tease him, a lot, gently stroking your fingers up the length of him and meeting his gaze before lowering your head. You can see the muscles in his arms bunch when he twists his hands in the sheets just before you press your lips to the crown of him, parting them slightly just enough to give the smallest of licks.

You only get a few kisses and licks to the length of him in before you’ve already managed to push his patience out the window. He grabs and pulls at you and urges you back up and into his lap. You hardly even get to breathe before he’s already hitched your robes up to your waist and angles your hips for you before meeting half way as you sink down and he presses up. And you’re full and stretched around him and it’s a familiar welcomed feeling you’ve come to wait for all the time.

He’s your favorite, he’s always been your favorite. You’re never jealous if he ends up being stolen by another for the evenings he’s there, but that’s just because years of conditioning makes you used to it. But if you get to him first, and sometimes even if not, he picks you. He’s woo’ed you with words of endearment before, uttering promises that you knew were most likely false and brought on by the wine in his system. But it warms you in places no one else can. 

You do know, from talking with the others that he does things for you, with you, that none of the other girls have experienced. And that fills you with a smug sense and it makes you eager for him. Eager to please him just as much as he does you, and you grind down hard against his hips and he groans.

He presses into you nicely, rubbing up against every little natural ridge inside of you and your walls just embrace all of him. Every inch, every ounce of the girth that you remember spearing you open the first time he picked you and oh how it had hurt in such a delicious way. He had been the biggest you’ve had at that time, but now he’s far from it. It still feels the same, still wonderfully perfect and a few times you had caught yourself wishing for a life where you would have met under other circumstances and where you’d be open to bearing him children…

But you were so well off on your own like this, and it was so much more fun to play with him when he came to visit.

His hands are possessive over your thighs and hips, caramel hands with their sword roughened finger tips against the softness of your inner legs. He brings you down into him, and you rock down to meet him and feel him jolt inside you.

Your fingers tangle in his pale hair, tugging mindlessly when he rocks you hard and pleasure shoots up your spine. 

It isn’t long before you’re already shaking over him, so close yet he’s keeping you on edge this time. He pants against your neck, licking sweat from your skin and suckling your ear and it’s so grossly intimate you could sob. You know you’re doomed and have been from the first time he pulled you into the rooms at the tavern and had his way with you and you found it hard to even accept his money because what he had given your body had been more than enough payment for your time.

No one else could reduce you to sobbing and salty tears while they drove between your legs until your skin was tender from the friction. No one else could lure you out and about outside of the tavern. But you could not, would not, refuse him.

He pulls you into a kiss just before he releases, sighing your name into your throat and you shudder again a moment later, spasming around him harshly as another orgasm rocks through you with an almost painful force.

This time as you come down from your high, he’s right along with you. His eyes are drowsy, cloudy with the want to sleep and his touch light as he pets your sides and back and grins up at you. You sit there on him, refusing to lift your hips and let him slide free just yet, face flushed and practically seeing stars though part of that is probably from exhaustion. And you sag down against him and he murmurs his approval, arms encasing you.

He lets you drift off and rest against him, only shifting you once to pull himself free but then promptly soothes you back into sleep and follows you over the cliff.

In the morning you’re greeted with a warm smile and a quick kiss before he hops out of bed and dresses. If he stays the night, he waits for you to wake up before leaving. You had asked why once, but he had just told you it was poor manners to leave a lady vulnerable. You had laughed. You didn’t see yourself as much of a respectable lady as he seemed to.

He says good bye with another kiss and a whispered promise to come back and see you again.

You lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling for a long moment while the warmth soaks into your bones and your glow subsides. It was time to get up, bathe, and go about another day of work. 

But it was hard to complain when you had him to look forward to.


End file.
